


I Was Here

by prestissimo



Series: Lost Entries from the Daily Ledger of Nicolas de Lenfent [4]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Dissociation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Torture, Overstimulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 01:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19262830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prestissimo/pseuds/prestissimo
Summary: We are not permitted to write our names. Our Oldest Friend forbids it.





	I Was Here

Sometimes I feel suspended in a fog of nameless quality.

My nerves splinter a little more each  ~~day.~~ night. 

Still, I work as best I can inside the cage that was once my mortal life.

I am a ghost. I have no body. My heart dwells in my head and I expect no more from this cold corpse whose vagueness I occupy.

I keep waiting to be recognized. Don’t they know I am Dead? For I was a man, but now a corpse masquerades in my place.

One of the women who held me down and took from me and recruited others to take from me and showed me such visions now brushes this hair every evening. Sometimes she must cut it, to spare herself the labor, but I am not “permitted” to take it upon myself any longer.

_~~I swear I don’t know I’m even doing it.~~ _

Perhaps this fog shall pass and I will emerge from Les Innocents and step into this corpse’s life. I don’t understand where I am. I hear the beat of blood and the unquenchable Thirst constantly in my head, and the elder says it will pass with time. That’s all he has to say about anything, that it’ll pass with time. Will it worsen, being unable to touch or feel or hear or see, though everything has been magnified so much? It all dims against the blood. Another contradiction: no rules exist for our kind, and yet we hobble ourselves with peculiar laws borne by errant sparks that a fire do not make.  ~~Not yet.~~  

Rule: We are not permitted to write our names.

How will I know whose name I bear, then? How will Lestat find me again?

_J'étais ici._ (translation: “I was here.”)

NdL

 


End file.
